THE WAR IS OVER!
Seventy years ago today World War II ended with the surrender of Japan. My sister Helen, who was six years old, recalled that she and Pauline, who was eight, had heard on the radio that the war was over. The radio broadcast reported that office workers in New York City were tossing papers and ticker tapes out of the windows of skyscrapers to celebrate. To join in the joyous occasion Pauline and Helen took copies of the FORT DODGE MESSENGER to the second floor of the farmhouse, flung open the windows and threw newspapers into the air. 

This letter from Betty to her younger brother Charlie was written one week after the war ended. Betty writes more about life on the farm. She refers to a threshing run, which is the process of harvesting grain, in this case probably oats. Neighboring farmers would work cooperatively going from farm to farm with a threshing machine helping each other with the harvest. The “Gus” that she refers to was one of their horses that was part of team that pulled farm equipment. Towards the end of the letter-- almost as a footnote--she comments on the end of the war. I choked up when I read the part where she wrote “…you and a lot of other boys won’t have to be fighting out there.”

Betty wrote that things were closed down for a couple of days so they did not receive any mail. To celebrate the end of the war President Truman declared Thursday and Friday, August 15 and 16 as federal holidays. Government offices and many businesses were closed. The City of Chicago ordered bars and taverns be closed, apparently to prevent overzealous celebrations. Here are the contents of Betty’s letter: 

Lehigh, Iowa
August 21, 1945

Dear Charlie,
It’s been quite a while since I wrote you but, I ran out of stationary and, I always forgot to get it when I went to the store. I got some today. 

They are getting the threshing done sort of slow around here. It rains pretty often and, the dew is so heavy that they have to do most of it just in the afternoon. We were the first on the run so, were all done quiet a while ago. I was planning to make some cookies this afternoon but one of the horses stepped on a nail and is so lame Steve can’t use him. He was going to take one of the colts but, he won’t work with Duke. In fact Duke was worse than the colt. So, the only thing he could do was take the tractor. Just think I had to run the tractor while he loaded bundles. I didn’t mind it. I think its kind of fun but, I felt sort of out of place among a bunch of men. The girls (Betty is referring to Pauline and Helen) went to dancing class and I put the boys (Johnny and Jimmy) in the car and took the car out into the field. That’s the first time I ran a tractor but, I guess we can do a lot of things when we really want to. I’d a lot rather do that than have Steve take the colt and get hurt. So because of that I didn’t get any cookies baked. I’ll make some as soon as I get a chance though. 

It’s raining a little now. If it doesn’t rain too much they’ll thresh tomorrow afternoon. I hope they won’t be able to until that horse gets well though because, I’ll hate to go out on that tractor again, I’ve got enough of my own work to do. I want to wash clothes in the morning. 

Tomorrow night I’m going to sell some of my young roosters. The produce man from Lehigh is coming after them. The brooder houses are getting pretty crowded so I’ll pick out the biggest ones and get rid of them. We’ve eaten quite a few already. Of course the chicken hawks and foxes and heaven knows what else has too. The other morning I let them out through the small holes and counted them and there were about seventy missing. That’s what we get for living next to a timber. 

Speaking of that horse we had a ten dollar veterinary fee last week. He was sick. The veterinarian said it was weed poisoning. He was out here four times and gave him some medicine. He was sick the day we threshed. Steve borrowed Verne Smith’s team that day. He’s going over there to shell corn in the morning. He has to fix himself a stub tongue for the hayrack too. He’s got a long new one on there that he just put on Saturday and he doesn’t want to break it. He broke the other one Saturday. It’s always something going wrong. 

I’m sure glad the war is over. No more gas rationing and a lot of other things, but most of all because you and a lot of other boys won’t have to be fighting out there. The last we heard Pete [Betty is referring to Steve’s younger brother] was on sea duty. I got your pictures last week. Everything around here was closed for two days and we didn’t get any mail. 

Well, I guess I’ll have to close because Steve is sitting here watching me and laughing at me for writing such a long letter, but I guess I should make up for not writing for such along time. So long for now. 

With love,
Betty

SENDING FLIES TO CHARLIE
Here is an image of Betty’s first letter to her younger brother Charlie Jondle. Notice the cartoon of the soldier in a tank and a little bird on the top of the stationary. It makes war look fun and happy. Of course we know that it really was not. Perhaps this stationary was designed to make the folks on the home-front feel a little better about the situation that their loved ones faced.

Following are the contents of Betty's second letter, written and sent just five days after the first; even so, there is an indication that Charlie had not yet received Betty’s first letter. In these days of email, texts and cell phones it can be hard for us to recall or imagine when it took days or even weeks to reach a loved one by letter. 

In this letter Betty writes more about life on the farm and makes a little joke about sending Charlie some flies. She refers to the kerosene lamp that lit the room, probably the kitchen where she wrote the letter. The Miklos did not have electricity until they moved to the farm north of Clare in 1948.

Lehigh, Iowa
July 25, 1945

Dear Charlie,

I just got done listening to the ten-fifteen news, and I’ll write you a few lines before going to bed. This is my only chance to write, after I have my work done up. We are being kept pretty busy. Steve started cutting oats today. He has a neighbor running the binder. 

It’s still awful hot out here, but then we need it. It rained last night. 

We haven’t eaten any chickens yet, but I think we’ll have our first on Sunday. Steve borrowed Verne Smith’s twelve gauge shot gun and shot a chicken hawk with it. He brought him home and, I think he looked sort of cute. That’s the first time I’ve seen one close. 

In your last letter you said you didn’t hear from me yet. I hope the letter had reached you after you wrote last. I’ll do my best to write to you as often as I can. 

I think it is going to rain again because the bugs are flying all around the lamp here and on this letter too. Maybe I’ll fold a few into it and send them to you. Ha! Ha! Well so long for now. 

Steve says to tell you he heard that Joe and Willie enlisted in the Merchant Marine. Well, I must close now. 

Your sister,
Betty

A photo of Charlie in his Navy uniform

THE END OF WORLD WAR II

World War II ended seventy years ago with the surrender of Japan on August 14, 1945. To mark this historic event I will post letters that document the Miklo and Jondle Family’s contribution to the war effort. Steve’s younger brother, Pete, served in the Navy. His younger brother, Joe, entered the Army near the end of the war.

Betty’s younger brother, Charlie, entered the Navy in July 1945 just after his 17th birthday. Although war had ended in Europe in May 1945, the fight against Japan continued in the Pacific. Charlie was still in training in the U.S. when the war finally ended, but he did go to sea in the Pacific and witnessed the early atom bomb tests. I would say he was a brave 17-year old. 

Charlie saved letters that were sent to him during his time in the Navy from 1945 to 1949. Most of the letters were from his father Ed Jondle. Ed often wrote short notes in broken English. They were mostly about what work they were doing on the farm and the weather depending on the time of year. Planting in the spring, harvesting in the fall. 

There were several letters from Betty and even one from nine-year-old Pauline, to her Uncle Charlie. Betty’s letters are also mostly about daily activity on the farm and what the four kids--Pauline, Helen, Johnny and Jimmy--were up to (mischief on some days). 

Thanks to Pam (Jondle) Ploeger. In the process of closing out Charlie and Ramona’s house, Pam found Charlie’s collection of letters. She also found a photo album, letters, recipes and other documents that belonged to Helen Jondle (Charlie and Betty’s mother). I hope to organize these documents and post the more interesting here. 

Here is the first letter addressed to Charles Jondle A/S, Company 963, U. S. N.T. C., Great Lakes, Illinois, postmarked 4PM July 20, 1945, Lehigh, Iowa

Lehigh, IA
July 19, 1945

Dear Charlie,
I got your letter this morning. Steve is out milking and I just got done putting the kids to bed. I’m pretty sleepy myself but I have to wait for Steve and feed the calf. We have a new heifer. Steve sure gave her a dumb name. He calls her “Betty.”

It’s awful hot here today. I don’t know how I am going to sleep. But I guess I should be glad because we need some warm weather for the corn. To make things worse I’ve been canning beans today so, I had to keep a big fire going. I plan on canning peas tomorrow. 

Steve fixed the kids’ tricycle today and they really had a good time with it. 

Last Sunday night we went to the Bohemian Hall. We had quite a good time. Verne Smith stayed with the kids here. 

Well, we did get a new tire so I went to town last Saturday. I think it’s a good thing that you were driving when it blew out because, Steve would have drove a lot faster than you did. And can you imagine what Johnny did that night after we got home? He let the air out of it. We didn’t have another tire nor a pump so, we had to call up a neighbor to bring his pump over. 

Last night Helen got in the car and turned the key on and left it on all night. Steve had to pull the car with the tractor this morning to get it going. After he got home Jimmy got in there and turned it on so, this afternoon Steve had to pull the car again. That really made him mad.

He’ll be coming in so I better close before I go to sleep on the table here. 

With love, your sister,
Betty

A note about the letter: Betty refers to canning green beans and peas and how it heated up the kitchen, Steve and Betty's farm in Lehigh did not have gas or electric service. She cooked with a wood burning stove. So that made the house even hotter. She makes a reference to the Bohemian Hall, a large ballroom south of Fort Dodge built by the Czech community.  Steve and Betty often went there to dance polka and waltzes.